Los Angeles museums

Los Angeles with Kids – 2nd Edition

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

When our now-college-age son was growing up, we took full advantage of living in Los Angeles. Weekends and school vacations gave us the perfect opportunity to explore our city. 

A good friend of mine called these family outings “field trips.” I took that as a compliment. I’m proud that our son had the chance to walk aboard Air Force One (at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library and Museum) and get an up-close look at Space Shuttle Endeavour (at the California Science Center). Our son has observed timeless works of art by Diego Rivera (at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art), Vincent van Gogh (at the Getty Center), and Pablo Picasso (at the Norton Simon Museum). He has viewed the evolving look and size of GRAMMY awards at the GRAMMY Museum, touched certain shark and ray species at the Aquarium of the Pacific, and laughed at fossilized dinosaur poop — it’s called “Coprolite” — at the Natural History Museum. 

This exposure was important to me. I wanted to give our son the opportunity to learn and discover in a variety of different fields because you never know what will capture a child’s interest. You never know how a certain interaction or hands-on activity will spark something for a child. 

However, I also understand that sometimes Los Angeles may seem too big. Opportunities for experiences can seem overwhelming, as if there are too many choices. 

That’s where Los Angeles with Kids: 250+ ideas for ways to have fun, explore SoCal, and never have a boring weekend again comes into play. 

The book is the newly-updated 2nd edition to MomsLA.com‘s first published book, which I wrote about back in August of 2022. (Click here to be taken to that post.)

The book includes seasonal activities and annual events, a list of activity ideas for toddlers and a list for teenagers, a list of museums, and a collection of “things to do” each based on neighborhood. (Because Los Angeles families know that living in Pasadena, for example, and deciding to visit the Heal the Bay Aquarium in Santa Monica, is not always the easiest commute.)

I’m proud to write for MomsLA.com (since 2013!), and I’m proud that some of that writing has found its way into this incredible resource and guidebook. 

Friends, I hope you’ll check it out. And, even if you don’t live in Southern California, the holiday season will soon be upon us, and Los Angeles with Kids makes a thoughtful gift. 

Please note: I am including a link to buy the book that I’m highlighting this week. If you use my link, I do make a small commission on your purchase at no additional cost to you. I am working with Bookshop.org which also sends a portion of the profit to support local, independent bookstores.

Family Field Trips Re-Imagined

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

Will Rogers Park – one of our summer “field trips”

Each summer since 2007, our family visits the Aquarium of the Pacific. (In fact, this yearly tradition began the day I took my home pregnancy test and learned I was expecting!)

“But this hasn’t been a typical summer. We had to alter the ‘what’ and ‘where’ of our days, yet I’m proud to say, we’re still acting as tourists in our city. We’re just exploring, observing, and visiting outdoor spaces this time.”

The paragraph above is from my recently published personal essay, “Our End-of-Summer L.A. Field Trips” which was recently published at L.A. Parent. You can read it here.

And no, we didn’t visit the Aquarium this year. (Though the Aquarium does now offer outdoor admission.)

 

How Much Is Too Much?

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

Ryan and I at The Huntington’s Lily Ponds

 

9 years.  

Next week, marks the ninth anniversary of my life with an autoimmune disease.

Although at the time, we didn’t realize we were dealing with a permanent situation.  My left calf was swollen.  We thought a visit to the emergency room would make it somehow become un-swollen, and that would be that.

How wrong we were.

9 years later, a lot has changed.  I’m no longer a classroom teacher.

But the part that hasn’t changed is my desire to be an active, engaged, loving mother.  For me, that means I make chocolate chip cookies for dessert a few times a week.  (Disclaimer – they’re the Pillsbury, pull-apart-and-bake-kind.)  And for me, that means every summer is full of what a friend of mine refers to as “field trips.”

My son and I (sometimes with my husband, sometimes with my dad, and oftentimes just the two of us), venture around the city exploring different venues and museums.

My son graduated from elementary school three weeks ago, and since then we have been to:  the GRAMMY Museum, the Getty Center, the Aquarium of the Pacific, Discovery Cube Los Angeles, miniature golfing, the library, and the beach (twice).  

The one that did me in, that almost brought me to tears (of pain and sadness and frustration) was our visit to The Huntington Library, Art Collections, and Botanical Gardens. 

We hadn’t been there in many years.  So many years, in fact, that Ryan had no memory of having been there before.  My husband, son, and I explored for about two-and-a-half hours.  That’s all my legs could do, and that’s all Ryan could do before his energy decreased and his appetite increased, and he was ready to leave. 

I loved being there.  Marveling at one of my favorite paintings, Pinkie, enjoying the colorful sight of the rose garden, thinking of my pen pal while in the Japanese Garden, smiling as we stood beside the lily ponds.  

But we didn’t see all the Huntington has to offer.  

We couldn’t.

I couldn’t walk any more.  The pain was intense.  My knees felt as if someone had whacked them with hammers.  My legs felt weighted down.  My shoes felt like they had magnets attaching me to the ground, making it hard for me to lift my foot and take a step.  

And yet, I had wanted to go there.

I had wanted our family to have this special day’s experience.

But I felt awful, until I went to sleep that night.

Was I glad I went?  Yes.  

Do I want to go back?  Yes and no.  

How much pain do I put myself in, how much do I push myself to see, to smell, to touch, to hear all that I wish to experience even when I know that it is physically difficult for me to do?

Nine years, and I still don’t have the answer to that question.